


Yellow Birds and Lilacs

by Xander_The_Undead



Category: IT (2017), IT - Stephen King
Genre: Bird trainer Stan!, M/M, Stan has relationship issues, Wedding Planning, flower shop au
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-05-31
Updated: 2019-05-31
Packaged: 2020-04-05 05:07:11
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,125
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19041739
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Xander_The_Undead/pseuds/Xander_The_Undead
Summary: When Mike was hired to do the flowers for a wedding, he was not planning on meeting the most beautiful bird trainer in the world.





	Yellow Birds and Lilacs

**Author's Note:**

  * For [tinyarmedtrex](https://archiveofourown.org/users/tinyarmedtrex/gifts).



> Fic exchange for the lovely [Tinyarmedtrex](https://archiveofourown.org/users/tinyarmedtrex)!

 

 

Going into business with his mother had been the right choice.

It wasn’t like Mike didn’t like working the farm with his dad, he did, but there was something just relaxing about arranging flowers. He still helped out on the farm, after all it was his parent’s main income and would be his someday, but the Hanlon Farms Florist shop was where he really loved to be.

Except lately it hasn’t been great.

Mike sat across from the bickering couple, Richie Tozier and Eddie Kaspbrak, whose wedding date was set for June sixteenth.

Mike watched as they went back and forth on colors, Eddie already having a binder full of examples on the color schemes and ideas he had while Richie seemed to just be pulling random colors out of his ass.

“Richie!” Eddie hissed. “I picked blue and gold and you said you were fine with that! What happened?”

“I changed my mind.”

Mike thought Eddie was going to implode right there in the small office they had in the flower shop. Luckily, after thirty more minutes of fighting, they had decided to go with Eddie’s original plan of blue and gold. Mike smiled tiredly and went through their flower options, letting them know what he could do for centerpieces, corsages and all-around decoration.

“Oh!” Richie piped up and Mike was nervous he was going to change his mind on the color scheme again. “We want birds in the center pieces.”

Mike stared at him for a minute. “Like...the fake styrofoam birds? I mean, I can try that if you wa-“

“No, no.” Eddie cut in, shaking his head. “Real birds. We want you to design the centerpiece around bird cages cause we want live birds at our wedding.”

What the fuck?

“I’m sorry, but I don’t have any live birds.”

“Oh, that’s okay!” Richie supplied with a large happy smile on his face. “We have a guy you can use.”

So, that’s how Mike found himself outside a large spacious building that looked a little like a zoo habitat. He glanced down at the slip of paper the Tozier-Kaspbrak couple had supplied him with, a name and an address written in Eddie’s neat handwriting.

“Stan Uris, huh?” Mike let out a deep sigh, remembering he had his Claritin in his pocket if he needed it and went inside.

Being raised on a farm at least prepared him for the noise inside. What he walked into was some kind of lobby, with large cages of small birds scattered around, all of them chirping loudly.

He could already feel his nose start to run as he walked up to the large abandoned help desk. He saw a buzzer on the top and pushed it once, when nothing happened, he pushed it again only to jump when one of the many doors in the room banged open.

“Hold on!” A voice yelled and Mike quickly took his hand away from the buzzer. “I’ll be with you in a minute!”

The door closed again, and Mike waited, starting to sniff a bit.

After a moment the door banged open again and a tall slim man walked out, and Mike felt like he suddenly couldn’t breathe, and it wasn’t just because his allergies were making him stuffy.

The man was not at all what he had been expecting, the fine features mixed with startling green eyes and clothes that were pressed neatly. His hair was unbelievably curly, but each curl seemed to be perfectly styled so that it didn’t frizz or stuck out in any way. The man was honestly beautiful, in an elfin like way. Mike had been expecting someone more…

“Can I help you?”

Mike came back to himself, blinking when he noticed the man was now behind the counter and cocking an impress questioning eyebrow up at him.

“Oh!” Mike laughed nervously and moved closer to the desk a little. “Sorry, I was just….spacing out I guess.”

The man did not look impressed with that and Mike cleared his throat.

“Yeah, so, anyway. I’m Mike Hanlon, Mr. Tozier said he’d let you know I was coming to meet with Stan today?”

“Ah.” The other nodded, picking up a large appointment book and laying it on the table so he could flip it open. “The florist. Yes, Richie said you would be coming around ‘sometime before dinner’ which was very helpful with planning my day.”

Mike winced. “I told him to tell you one.”

The beautiful Stan blinked before he let out almost a surprised sounding chuckle. “I don’t blame you. Richie is a fuck-ass who can't figure out shit.”

Mike stared in shock at the sudden swearing, his own surprised laugh bursting out, which he had to immediately apologize for.

“Sorry!” He covered his mouth with Stan looked confused. “I’m not laughing at you. You just surprised me. I wasn’t expecting that.”

After a moment the other smiled and Mike felt warm.

“It’s alright. I normally am not free with my language during work, but Richie is a special case. Now,” Stan reaches out to tap the desk lightly. “I hear those idiots said they wanted live birds in their centerpieces, because they think it’s that easy.”

Mike grinned, liking this man more and more as the continued to talk and nodded quickly. “They did not seem to think it was that big of a request, even when I told them that having to make sure any flowers near the cages would have to be researched in case of poison.”

The wide brilliant smile the grew on Stan’s face made Mike a little weak at the knees and he had to reach out and hold onto the edge of the desk so that he wouldn’t obviously sway at all.

“Finally, someone understands!” Stan cried, moving around from the desk as he started to sort through a ring of keys on his very polished black belt. “All people want is something aesthetically pleasing and have no regard for the safety of the birds which is just shitty.”

God, even when he was ranting he was pretty.

“I’m glad to be doing business with someone like you, Mike.” Stan grinned before gesturing towards the door he had come from. “Let’s see what these idiots want, and I’ll tell you how not-doable it is and then we can actually figure out a working game plan.”

“Sounds amazing, Stan.”

He tried not to notice how excited Stan looked then, eyes moving down and quickly up Mike before subtly biting his lip.

“Good.”

 

* * *

 

Working with people had never been Stan’s strongest quality.

He was told he was too harsh, too critical, too deadpanned and that his humor was a little too mean. That was why he had finally left the accounting firm after five years there and went after something he truly had a passion for.

Birds.

Training birds to be specific.

It had started out as a throw away joke between him and Richie, that Stan’s dream job would be to work with birds because they were the only things he could stand. Then it kind of morphed into something real when Eddie has offered up the idea that movies and TV shows look for trained animals for scenes and Stan started researching.

The real kicker was when fucking Dan from the firm had muttered that goddamn slur under his breath for the fortieth time and Stan just decided to sue him over it. He won and the firm’s HR apologized profusely, offering him the promotion that he’d always thought he wanted, but not anymore.

Stan quit and with his nest egg started his own small business of bird training and renting.

It had started out slow, but now he was renting his falcons to renfaires, a few of his vultures had been on a couple episodes of CSI: Phoenix and his owls were insanely popular thanks to all the wizarding fanatics.

He loved all his birds dearly. So, when Richie and Eddie finally decided they were going to tie the knot and told him they wanted birds at his wedding he felt a little protective.

Especially when they had said that he needed to talk with the florist on what would work, which made Stan get ready for a fight. He had been expecting some bitchy lady to come in with all her ideas with flowers that wouldn’t work with his babies and instead had been gifted a beautiful dark God.

Mike Hanlon’s smile was probably what the sun was made of.

(That’s not true. Stan knew the sun was made up of multiple burning gases, but he was trying to be poetic.)

If Stan had thought the first impression was great, getting to know the man and working beside him had been amazing. His family owned a farm, but the flower shop was his and his mom’s. They grew the flowers in their garden for the shop, unless some crazy exotic flower was needed, and they also offered chocolate covered strawberries picked from their strawberry patch.

Stan was honestly skeptical the first few days. No person was that kind, considerate and thoughtful. It had to be some kind of weird farce.

But day in and day out Mike continued to be the complete nice person that he had started out as and each day Stan slipped a little more and more full-blown liking instead of a crush.

He tried to pretend like he wasn't staring at Mike’s biceps as the man picked up the wooden cage he had designed and built. Stan kept his frown in place as Mike set the cage in front of him on the table, showcasing the frankly beautiful woodwork.

“It’s ready for your inspection.” Mike beamed, seeming almost excited that Stan was going to try and look over his work to find a flaw. “I made sure to go over your notes multiple times and included everything. Just let me know if you still have an issue.”

Stan gave him an appreciative smile.

This bird cage wasn’t the first Mike had built; it was the fourth. All three before it hadn’t met Stan’s standards for his babies, his happy canaries, and he had expected Mike to become frustrated and irritated.

All Mike had done was nod with a thoughtful frown and ask if he could try again.

Stan had never had someone work around his pickiness like that, with a kind voice and patience. He had had to excuse himself that very moment or else he would have jumped Mike right in the Hanlon farm’s sawmill.

Stan walked around the table, looking at the cage with a critical eye, even reaching out to turn it this way and that to really give it a good look. He honestly could find nothing, but that didn’t stop him from giving a slightly bored hum.

“Eddie said he would like the cages to be dark, this wood is balsa wood. Are you planning to paint it? Because I don’t think I like that plan.” Stan raised an eyebrow when all Mike gave him was a smirk because he knew what Stan was doing and it thrilled the curly haired man that he was playing along.

“This is a prototype, balsa wood is cheap, so I wanted to use it to get the design down first and with your stamp of approval.” Stan hated how Mike cocked his hip and crossed his arms over his chest, it was so damn hot. “Then I’ll probably use something like walnut for the finished product.”

Stan tried to act unimpressed, but he couldn’t help the large smile that pulled on his lips as he nodded. “That sounds good.”

He heard Mike chuckle and Stan turned to watch the other man as he picked up the cage, placing it gently on the worktable before plucking at his clothes. “I’m disgusting. Mind if I take a shower before we meet Richie and Eddie for the overview?”

Stan hoped the dim lights of the sawmill were dark enough so that Mike wouldn’t be able to see the flush on his face, the idea of Mike with less clothes causing Stan to get warm under the collar. He shook his head, not trusting himself to speak, and Mike gave him such a gentle smile Stan wished he had a photographic memory.

“Okay,” Mike said, pushing away from the table to reach out and tug on one of the curls that had escaped his hair gel and hung over his forehead. “I’ll be quick. I promise.”

“It’s fine.” He said lamely even though Mike had left, and he sighed as he wandered outside to sit on one of the large logs the Hanlon’s kept around as lawn chairs. He sat quietly, letting the midday sun hit his face for a few moments before sighing and rubbing his hands over his face with a groan. “What the fuck am I doing?”

Going after a guy he had to work with for another month was probably not the smartest idea.

 

_“You are fucking impossible!” Zach yelled as he slammed the dishwasher shut. “Does it really matter which dish I put where or if I leave the milk open even once? Every day it’s nagging! I’m ready to fucking leave!”_

_Stan couldn’t even see past the anger of how Zach had purposely loaded the dishwasher wrong in front of him just to make him mad._

_“Would you stop yelling?” He tried calmly. “We have neighbors.”_

_“Are you fucking kidding me?” Zach spit. “I’m telling you I’m going to leave and you’re worried about the neighbors? Is there even room inside that ice chest you call a heart for me after your dumb birds?”_

 

He sighed and let his hands drop to his lap, frowning at the memory and the small hangnail on his thumb.

Mike was sweet and loving, but how long after being with Stan would that change? Zach had been kind and wonderful when the first got together but being with Stan had turned him into a stressed and upset mess until they finally called it quits.

Stan made bastards by proxy because he was the biggest bastard.

He didn’t want to do that to Mike.

Stan sat out there until Mike came to find him, cocking a questioning eyebrow and questioning smile as he walked up to the sitting man.

“You okay?”

Stan nodded.

“You sure? Cause you look a little sad.”

Stan looked up at him, and God, Mike looked so concerned that Stan just wanted to blurt out everything to him. He choked back that knee jerk reaction, immediately closing his mouth and forcing a smile as he shook his head.

“Not sad. Just appreciating the beauty of the farm.”

Mike frowned and turned around to look at the scenery that Stan was talking about, the gravel driveway surrounded by soybean rows. He turned back to Stan with that eyebrow raised again.

“You sure?”

“I...love a good gravel driveway.” Stan pushed out, hating himself and wanting to die on the spot. “Anyway, you ready to go meet the idiots?”

Mike watched him for a few moments longer before nodding. “Yeah, you want to drive together? I can just clear out the front seat of my truck.”

Stand shook his head, spending any more time alone with Mike than he absolutely had to was probably a mistake and he stood up.

“No, that’s okay. I’ll take my car so I can just leave right from the restaurant.” Stan acted like he didn’t notice the disappointed look on Mike’s face, shoving his hands in his beige slacks because he didn’t know what else to do.

“Sure, yeah that makes sense. Sorry.”

“No, it’s okay.” Stan reassured, hating how Mike backed up a little and looked awkward suddenly. “It was nice of you to offer, thank you.”

He gave Mike a soft smile and the way Mike’s expression seemed to ease up at it made Stan’s heart feel light.

God, he was so fucking screwed.

 

* * *

 

Mike was almost positive Stan was avoiding him.

Or.

Not avoiding him, because it was next to impossible to avoid him when they had to work together so much especially with the wedding getting so close. But Stan seemed to be having as little contact with Mike as he possibly could all of a sudden.

Gone the long talks on the phone after discussing work.

No more long visits to the farm or shop. Stan only came to talk business and then left.

He barely even looked Mike in the eye anymore or answered his texts and it embarrassingly led to a few nights of sad drinking on Mike’s part.

He had absolutely no idea what he’d done to make Stan suddenly give him the cold shoulder and he would ask and apologize if Stan would even give him the time of day.

“Well!” Eddie chirped happily, closing the large book of photos Stan had taken of his canaries and placed the woven willow branches Mike had brought as an example off to the side. “I think this looks amazing you guys!”

“I agree!” Richie chimed in and Mike has to shake himself out of his own thoughts, glancing down at his untouched salmon.

“I’m glad you two like it,” Stan supplies with a sharp smile. “You’re lucky you know someone who supplies live bird and found a florist whose patient enough to deal with you.”

“Harsh, Stanslaw.” Richie whined, Stan not seeming at all moved by the ridiculous nickname. “We just know what we want.”

Eddie snorted. “You mean I know what I want.”

“Now you’re just splitting hairs, babe.”

Mike watched as Richie and Eddie started to snip back and forth at each other before letting his eyes wander over to Stan, surprised when he found the other man’s gaze already on him. Stan seemed to startle when their eyes met, and he quickly glanced back down at his chopped salad as his cheeks went red.

_What the hell?_

He slowly turned his attention back to the couple, who seemed to have stopped bickering long enough to conclude their meeting.

Before he knew it, his fish was boxed, and Richie was paying the check and Stan was standing up from the table to say his goodbyes. He barely looked back at Mike when he said goodbye to him before walking out of the restaurant with long strides.

Fuck those long legs.

“Um, I’m sorry- I have to do a thing.” Mike explained lamely as he quickly stood up and started to gather his things and examples as fast as he could. “Thank you for lunch. I promise you the flowers will be perfect and uh-“

He watched Stan walk out the front door.

“Sorry!”

He took off after the man, clutching the woven willow branches under his arm as he pushed through the large wooden front doors of the restaurant. He frantically looked around the decent sized parking lot, worried he had missed him, when he spotted that familiar head of curls and booked it.

Being his high school’s wide receiver have him the power and speed Stan’s thin baseball legs couldn’t hold a candle to.

“Stan!” He called, watching as the man froze and turned to look over his shoulder with an almost stricken expression on his face. Mike stopped running when he had the man’s attention and finished the rest of the way in a light jog, trying to laugh a little to lighten whatever it was that made Stan look at him like that.

“Man, you left pretty quick there! I almost didn’t get a chance to talk to you.”

Stan glanced to the side almost looking like he was looking for help and that alarmed Mike because he didn’t think he’d ever done anything to make Stan feel unsafe. He bit his lip and took a small step back just in case, but that didn’t seem to help.

“I’m sorry, did I do something wrong?”

“Huh?” Now instead of scared Stan looked shocked. “No? No. Why do you think you’ve done something wrong?”

“Uh,” Mike drawled, hitching his bag higher up on his shoulder as he tried to think of the most delicate way to word this. “Because it kinda seems that way from the way you’re acting?”

Guilt.

That was the expression on Stan’s face now and he moved to fiddle with one of the cuffs of his dress shirt as quietly started to mumble something. Mike frowned and took a very small step forward so he could hear a little better, but it didn’t help.

“I can’t hear you, Stan.”

“I _said_ ,” Stan’s brow furrowed, and he looked almost mad. “That you didn’t do anything. I’m just trying to keep things more professional because I was being very lax about that.”

Mike tried to smile. “Well, I like nonprofessional Stan and you know I don’t mind-“

“Well, I do!”

Mike took an instinctive step back at Stan’s outburst, hands coming up to show he meant no harm as he stared at Stan who was so mad, only for that all to melt away when he seemed to realize what he’d done. Stan covered his face with his hand, taking a deep breath in as if he was trying to collect himself. After a moment he dropped his hand, looking over at Mike with such a defeated expression that Mike just wanted to reach out to him.

“I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have yelled, that wasn’t...That wasn’t very professional of me.”

Mike frowned at that wording and he shook his head.

“What’s going on, Stan? I thought-“ He stopped himself from admitting that because who knew what Stan felt. “I don’t know what I thought, but if it’s something I can fix or help with just tell me.”

“You can’t fix this.”

“How do you know unless you give me a chance?”

“Because you can’t.” Stan had started to move towards his car again, pressing the unlock button and Mike grit his teeth and reached out. He grabbed a hold of Stan’s arm and pulled him back as gently as he could.

“Stan, come on what-“

“It’s because I’m in love with you!”

Mike froze, staring with wide eyes in shock as Stan’s face went scarlet and started to crumble. He let Stan’s arm drop from his grasp and watched Stan take in a shake breath that almost sounded like he was going to start crying.

“I-“

“You don’t have to say anything.” Stan bit out roughly, his voice thick with emotion. “I just- let’s just finish this job nicely, okay? I won’t...I promise I won’t make it weird.”

Mike shook his head.

“Promise you won’t make it weird? Wait, Stan, I think you’re misunderstanding something here. I like you, okay?” That didn’t seem to get the reaction he had hoped for, Stan still glaring down at the keys in his hands, so Mike tried to keep going. “I mean, I’m not sure about love yet, but I really really like you.”

Still Stan didn’t looked pleased.

“I know you like me, Mike. I’m an asshole, but I’m not blind.” Stan sighed and Mike had to fight back the urge to tell Stan he wasn’t an asshole because Stan wasn’t finished. “But I’m really no good at being in a relationship. I nag a lot, I’m sarcastic, I’m anal as fuck, I need things to be my way and I’ve destroyed every nice guy I’ve ever dated.”

Stan looked so sad when he turned his face towards Mike.

“I don’t want to destroy you too.”

Mike didn’t know what to say. “Stan...I-“

“I’ll call you about the canaries, alright?”

Mike panicked as he watched Stan open his car door and get in, but his body refused to move to stop him. He could only stare dumbly as Stan pulled out carefully and drove off, his small blue Prius disappearing around the corner far too soon.

Mike stood in the parking lot for a long time, so long to the point where Richie and Eddie found him and asked if he was alright.

_I don’t want to destroy you too._

“Shit.”

 

* * *

 

Stan sighed as he watched Eddie and Richie have their first dance as Doctor and Mr. Kaspbrak-Tozier, the flowers and fairy lights Mike had set up making the ballroom look like from a fairy-tale.

Even his canaries seemed pleased, singing happily in their cages while everyone mingled and watched the happy couple. The only one who wasn’t was himself as he leaned against the mirrored wall of the ballroom.

Mike had stopped calling or contacting him for anything other than business after the incident in the parking lot and Stan tried to tell himself he was glad. They would only have ended up unhappy like all of Stan’s relationships and he took a sip of his scotch with a scowl.

The first dance had ended and now Richie was dancing with Maggie, Eddie’s mom had refused to come, so Eddie was dancing with Went.

His chest gave a pang because he knew he wanted that.

He jerked a little when he felt someone move to stand next to him, the smell of fresh cut greens and flowers already letting him know who it was. He kept his gaze on the new dancing family, but he couldn’t help but love how Mike pressed his arm fully against Stan’s even though suit jackets.

“I want you to know,” Mike started slowly, and Stan gulped quietly, terrified of what he would say. “That I already knew you nagged, were sarcastic and needed things to be a certain way. How long do you think we’ve been working together? Six months is a long time.”

Stan felt his face burn in shame and his scowl came back. “I apologize.”

“I’m not looking for an apology.” Mike said quietly and Stan stiffened when he felt Mike’s fingers gently graze his where their hands hung close together. “I’m trying to tell you that I already knew that stuff about you and that doesn’t make me want to be with you any less.”

“Mike-“ Stan choked out, closing his eyes against the beauty of the ballroom when Mike reached out to grab his hand while still looking straight ahead.

“No. No more excuses. I rebuilt a birdhouse four times because you weren’t happy with any of them.” Stan wanted to die, but Mike’s next words made something get stuck in his throat. “But I did it happily because I wanted to see you satisfied with my work and, Stan, when you finally were that was the best thing in the world, seeing your smile.”

Stan was going to start crying any second now and he was relieved when Mike tugged on their linked hands, pulling Stan along until they were outside in one of the small alcoves of the banquet hall’s lobby. He was grateful when Mike let him be up against the wall, Mike turning so his back would face anyone who happened to look over, hiding Stan from the world.

“You don’t understand.” Stan said brokenly. “I have a certain way I have to have the dishes done.”

He snorted when Mike shrugged.

“I’m serious.”

“Okay.” Mike replied. “Then when we eventually move in together, you can show me how to do it or you can just do the dishes.”

Stan blinked. “I’ll nag you to death.”

“I doubt it, but if it becomes too much, I’ll talk to you about it and we can work through it. Because that’s what you do in a relationship you want to keep.” Stan was scrambling for anything more to say to dissuade Mike from this, but his brain stopped working when he felt Mike’s warm broad hand cup his jaw. Mike turned Stan’s face to look at him and he groaned softly at the absolute gentle look of love on his face. “Besides, I’m not perfect either. I know for a fact there are a few things I do that will drive you bonkers.”

“I doubt it.” Stan whispered.

“No, it’s true.” Mike grinned, other hand coming up to hold stands face fully between his hands. “I leave wet towels on the floor constantly, I leave mugs of unfinished tea everywhere, and I like to wear sandals as long as I possibly can.”

He laughed when Stan screw his face up at those because ew?

“And those are just a few of my less than perfect habits, but if they bug you, I’ll work on them because I’d rather be with you then have my armada of half-finished tea mugs.”

Stan licked his lips, his heart feeling like it was going to burst out of his chest when Mike leaned over to press their foreheads together.

“You’re sure?”

“Absolutely.” Mike whispered. “Because I hate to tell you this, but I’m pretty sure I now love you even when your scowling and sipping scotch.”

Stan couldn’t help the small chuckle that bubbles out from his throat and he wound his arms around Mike’s waist.

“This is your funeral, Hanlon.”

“Bring it on, Uris.”

Stan didn’t think anymore as he pressed his lips against Mike’s, and it was fucking amazing.

 

* * *

 

“Oh my god I’m tired!” Richie cried as he fell back against their hotel bed with a groan, toeing off his dress shoes. He turned to watch as Eddie nearly started undressing and he beckoned him over when Eddie was only left in his socks, sock garters and white dress shirt.

He grinned when Eddie climbed up on the bed and moved to straddle his hips, his hands coming to rest on the warm skin of Eddie’s thighs.

“I think our idea worked.” Eddie said softly, moving to run his fingers through Richie’s curls causing them to become an even more crazy mess with the gel in it. “I saw them dancing after dinner. They looked pretty happy.”

Richie grinned. “It’s about time. I was starting to think they’d never make the move. I can’t believe we had to have birds at our wedding just to get them to meet.”

“Stan wouldn’t have tried to meet him otherwise, you kind of ruined him on blind dating when you set him up with that guy from your work.”

“Yeah yeah. Well, I’m glad it worked. Stan’s lonesome turkey thing was getting to be too much.” When Eddie raises an eyebrow at that Richie shrugged. “Stan likes birds, turkeys are birds.”

“Don’t turkeys travel in like groups?”

“Oh my god I don’t care!” Richie cried, moving to roll them over so he could lay on top of Eddie. “It’s my wedding night and I want to stop talking about this so I can have sex with my husband!”

Eddie laughed.


End file.
